


Smoke and Lines

by QueerGirlTakeover



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Drug Use, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerGirlTakeover/pseuds/QueerGirlTakeover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura and Carmilla smoke together at a party.</p><p>Based on a prompt on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Lines

People lean up against the walls, cups in hand. A couple of them wave at Lafontaine and Perry as they come in, and they wave back. Laura hovers awkwardly behind them, unsure what to do. She doesn't know a whole lot of people, but Lafontaine had told her.... well it didn't really matter what Lafontaine had told her, besides that Carmilla was going to be there.

Laura smooths the front of her pants unnecessarily, trying not to look around. Even in her periphery she can't see her, so she risks a quick scan of the room. No Carmilla, at least not yet. She follows Lafontaine into the kitchen, where she leans against the fridge as Lafontaine mixes a drink for her.

“What is it?” Laura asks when they hold it out to her.

“Some vodka, some orange juice. Nothing special.”

Laura takes it cautiously, tastes it, then resolves to drink half of it at most. They did not skimp on the alcohol. She spots Danny through the doorway to the living room. Danny waves her over, and Laura gratefully joins her on the couch. She talks, sips her drink, talks some more. People rotate through, and it is only after an hour that Laura notices Carmilla.

Carmilla is leaning against the wall across the room, talking to a girl. Her hands are empty, tucked into her pockets. Her eyes meet Laura's and Laura quickly looks down at the barely-touched drink in her hand, tries to refocus on Danny. She imagines she can feel Carmilla's eyes on her and sets her drink on the table self-consciously. Every time she looks over Carmilla seems absorbed in her own conversation. Once or twice she thinks she sees Carmilla's eyes flick away, but she tells herself she's imagining it.

“Hey!”

Laura looks around as Danny stands up and throws her arms around Kirsch. “Hey.”

He grins, holds out a bag cupped in his palm. “We brought the hookah.” Will appears beside him, bag over his shoulder. “C'mon bro, patio.” He gives Danny a kiss on the cheek before stepping outside.

Danny looks down at Laura, still sitting on the couch. Laura feels like a mouse next to Danny's legs. “Want to come with?”

Laura nods, standing up. Even then she feels small.

“It's gonna take a couple minutes to set up,” Danny says. “Why don't you go get Laf and Perry and meet us out there?”

Laura nods again, then returns to the kitchen, where Lafontaine and Perry are mixing drinks for people. Well, Lafontaine is mixing drinks. Perry is telling people when they've had enough and sending them home.

“Laura!” Lafontaine cries when they see her.

Laura smiles. “Hey. So Danny sent me to invite you to smoke with her- us. I guess. Kirsch said something about a hookah.”

“I'm there,” Lafontaine says, putting down the tequila bottle they were holding. “Coming, Perr?”

For a moment Perry looks discomfited, then says, “I'll sit with you.”

Laura lets them lead her to the patio door, and steps outside, sliding it shut behind her. She hadn't realized how hot the house was until she'd felt the night air, and she takes a deep breath. It feels cleansing. She turns, and locks eyes with Carmilla, who's lounging in a chair around the table. She's silent, and watches Laura over Kirsch, who's arguing lightheartedly with Danny. Laura blinks, smiles, and sits down next to Lafontaine. She tries not to look at Carmilla, no matter how much she wants to.

As Kirsch sets up the hookah, a couple more people spill out onto the patio, lighting cigarettes and talking. Laura listens absentmindedly to their conversation, glancing occasionally and involuntarily at Carmilla. Carmilla jokes with Will, but Laura catches her eye more than once again. It begins to feel like a game.

Kirsch takes a deep breath in through the hose, sits down, then lets it out. It rises like he's put out a fire in his throat, and he passes the hose to Danny. Laura watches it move around the table, watches as Carmilla takes the longest breath Laura thinks she has ever seen. Smoke hangs around her, the light from the wall illuminating it, making it look like she has a halo. Laura's finding it harder to look away.

“Want it?” Lafontaine offers the hose to Laura. Laura hesitates, coming back to herself and pulling her eyes away from Carmilla. They smile. “No worries if you don't. No pressure.”

Laura reaches out, takes the hose. It's warm, from everyone who's held it before her. The smoke is smooth and cool as she breathes it in, running down her throat and pooling inside of her. She holds it for a moment, then lets it go in one long breath, piling out of her lungs in waves. Her head feels lost for half a second, like she's going to ride the waves away. She pulls herself down to earth.

“Damn Hollis,” Danny says, taking the hose Laura passes to her. “I did not see that coming.”

She's not really sure how to respond, so Laura just smiles. Everybody always assumes she's such a good girl, so inexperienced. She kind of enjoys breaking that image. Across the patio, Carmilla watches Laura unblinkingly. Laura looks back at her steadily, her confidence growing. She expects Carmilla to look away, but she doesn't, until Kirsch offers her the hose. Laura looks down at her hands, plays with her fingers.

Someone bumps against her and she turns around. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” the boy says, moving away. But Laura's calm has been shattered.

“I'm going to get some water,” she says, standing up. Lafontaine waves as they exhale.

The house has emptied out, but some people still lean on walls, drinks in hand, chatting. Laura can hear the music from the other room as she turns into the kitchen. It is empty, save the alcohol bottles like soldiers liked up on the counter. She gets herself a cup, fills it with water from the tap, and leans against the counter. She doesn't know how long she stands there, time slowing around her, everybody moving both too fast and too slow, too loud and too quiet. She feels every person who walks by like a beacon. Finally she turns to put her cup in the sink. And then she is nose to nose with Carmilla, the sink still dripping behind her.

“Hey cutie,” Carmilla says. “Everything okay?”

Laura feels the smoke winding through her, flowing along her skin, lighting her nerves in a net of silver. Carmilla is so close, Laura has been waiting for this, she has dreamed of this. In her dreams Carmilla kisses her. In real life, it's the other way around. Or as real as life can be when she's made of glass and metal and Carmilla is kissing her back.

She is against the counter she is wrapping her arms around Carmilla, she tangles her fingers in black hair, she is breathing Carmilla in to her lungs- and then she is not. Carmilla pulls back, Laura's hands slide down, a smooth long line, and rest against her back. She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes. Carmilla's eyes are made of fire, of the depths of time, and Laura gets lost in them, falls through her pupils into a moment of forever.

“Are you okay?” Carmilla asks.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Laura responds, a little confused.

“I guess I just wanted to check,” Carmilla says. “Just to make sure.”

Laura nods, traces circles against Carmilla's back. Patterns drift between them, thin-lined and pale, waiting for form. She feels Carmilla tremble against her and she smiles. “Yes,” she says, leaning forward and kissing her again. This time there is no hesitation, Carmilla kisses her hard, and Laura opens her mouth, lets Carmilla in. Carmilla's body pins her against the counter, and Laura can feel her heartbeat like a bell, ringing through her, reverberating along her spine and echoing in her ribcage. Carmilla's hands find the edge of Laura's shirt, runs her fingers along the strip of exposed skin. The patterns shift, solidify, melt again, just to reform new again. Her kisses trail to Laura's neck and-

“Hey guys.” Laura's eyes snap open, Carmilla slowly raises her head. Danny stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “Sorry to interrupt,” she says, “but we're all coming in.”

Behind her, the patio door slides open and Laura can hear voices, footsteps. Carmilla unwinds herself, leans on the counter beside Laura, their shoulders touching. Danny steps into the kitchen as Lafontaine, Kirsch, and Perry come in, chattering loudly about something Laura can't follow, not when sparks dance through her veins and she's made of driftwood held together by the remnants of ringing bells.

When she leaves, Carmilla kisses her goodbye, and Laura goes to sleep that night with bones still replaying remembered bells, skin still molding patterns, waiting to be remade again, and a silent smoky promise curling around her.


End file.
